To Run Hot and Cold
by Kay Willow
Summary: That irritating bed-wetting girl is always bothering him, but she's too stupid to be left on her own. That's what he tells himself. //Hitsugaya Hinamori//


**.to run hot and cold.**

His footsteps were loud and quick on the wooden panels, pacing restlessly back and forth. It was unusually warm in the house for deep winter because of all the cooking his grandmother was doing, but Toushirou could _feel_ the cold outside, crisp and energizing, and he was _impatient_.

His grandmother suggested, "You could go over to see Momo-chan, if you're tired of waiting--"

"I'm not waiting for her," Toushirou said, scoffing. "Who'd want to spend time with her?"

She was _taking too long_.

But as soon as he thought it he heard her: Momo's voice lifting, calling out, "Shiro-chan? Hitsugaya-san? I'm coming in!"

Toushirou flung open the door and skidded to the edge of the porch, flinging snow in her face as she climbed up the edge. The older girl squealed in surprise and spluttered, rubbing at her eyes. "Sh, Shiro-chan, honestly!"

" 'Honestly!' " he mimicked her. "C'mon, we're not going inside."

Newly-cleared of snow, Momo looked up at him with her eyes reddened and wide. "But it's freezing out there," she complained weakly.

"What kind of wuss are you?" Toushirou scoffed. "It's barely even snowing."

For a moment she didn't follow him into the snow, stood there rubbing her hands together with her brow furrowed with conflicting urges. "You're not even dressed for the cold..."

"You don't _have_ to come," he said casually.

He knew he was trapping her in a corner, and so did she. Of course she didn't have to come; but if she didn't, he would go anyway, vanish for the rest of the day and be snappish and angry at her for a week. Momo stared at him, troubled as she puzzled through her options and then came to the conclusion that he already knew she would come to, and with a massive sigh, she tromped out into the snow after him.

Toushirou always won. That was just how it worked. He was the smart one, the genius, and Momo was weak. She put up hardly a cursory fight before letting him have his way. If he liked being up and about in the winter, then she would follow him out to play, even if she'd rather be inside.

It was the same way in the summer, only the other way around.

"Come on, we should play, it's a perfect day!" Momo complained, leaning over on her hands to peer at his face.

"You're crazy," he said flatly, not moving. Toushirou sprawled on his back with his eyes closed. He could feel the heat all around him, like an almost physical weight sapping all his momentum.

Momo curled her arms around her knees. "Do you really want to just lie here?" she said, disappointed. "This is boring."

Toushirou didn't remember promising to entertain her. She'd come here all on her own, after all. "So go play elsewhere. At least there'll be less _whining_."

When he finally chased her off the time passed with numb inevitability, the hours melting away slowly into blissful, almost-livable night. By the time Toushirou felt capable of standing and walking, it was pretty much time to go to bed and sweat under a thin sheet until morning.

He _hated_ summer.

The next day Momo came again, asking plaintively, "Are you feeling any better tod--"

"Your voice is so shrill," he muttered, tossing to face away from her and putting a hand over his ear. "Don't you have anything better to do than bother me?"

That time she left without a fuss, and -- he didn't like that, actually. Toushirou rolled over to face the sky, frowning up at the innocent white clouds that drifted lazily by. Momo didn't come back.

Mid-afternoon came around and there was still no sign of her. Now he was getting agitated. She'd just left? What was she, stupid? Yeah, he'd told her to go, told her she was annoying, but did she really think he'd put up with her inanity at all if he couldn't handle a little annoyingness?

Agitation made the heat feel less oppressive. Toushirou shoved himself to his feet and slumped into the house. "Where's that dumb bed-wetter?" he asked his grandmother sullenly.

The old woman said thoughtfully, "I don't know. Didn't Momo-chan come to see you?"

"Yeah," he admitted, and then insisted, "but she took off! Where did she go?"

"Maybe she's gone to play in the village square with the other children."

_Other children,_ he thought numbly. That's right, there were other children -- useless and uninteresting things he could run circles around, with the collective intellect and spiritual presence of the village's cricket population.

Well, Momo was stupid, but she wasn't on _their_ level. She was only resorting to them because he'd forgotten, in this heat, how to play the game.

Toushirou approached the road with his jaw clenched tight. Every time he encountered one of the village children it was like the first time; they forgot all about how he broke someone's nose for trying to tag him into their game, and flocked around him and tried to make friends, until he had to punch someone for being too presumptuous and they scattered again fearfully.

But the first thing he saw when he made it to the road was _her_, Momo playing a hand game with some boy, older and taller than Toushirou. His dark fingers curled over her pale hands and she laughed at something he had said.

"_Hey._"

Momo's head jerked up, and she said, surprised, "Shiro-chan! You're feeling better--"

Not anymore he wasn't; he was cold, cold all over despite the heat. Toushirou stalked over to them and shouldered the taller boy out of the way, hearing more than seeing him stumble because he was looking at her. He took Momo by the wrist and she didn't protest, although her eyes were wide.

He announced, "I'm bored, so we're going to the lake. Come on."

"Hey, we were already doing something, kid," said the other boy.

Toushirou leveled him with a flat stare. "And now you're not." He tugged on her hand.

"You can't just yank her like th--!"

Momo told the boy, "Thanks, but it's okay. He's my friend!"

She was so incredibly stupid. If someone had grabbed her arm and tried to drag her away in front of Toushirou, and that had been her only commentary, he would have hit her attacker anyway; being a friend didn't excuse treating her badly.

But the other boy was much stupider, for just standing there and accepting that answer, scowling after them as they left.

"Why do you even talk to them?" Toushirou muttered. In his mind he shoved himself down, down, don't let her see you're bothered, don't let that icycold spirit power rise up and fill you with the kind of negative energy that hurts people. She hadn't felt it, even once, since the day they met, and he liked it that way.

Liked it because her fingers were unhesitating as they curled back around his, until they were holding hands, and there was no reservation in her voice when she said, "Well -- I had no one else to talk to. But I'd _rather_ play with you."

The icycold retreated, until he felt human again, and he slowed their breakneck pace, brushing his hair back and not looking at her. "That only proves that you're an idiot," he said, and she ruffled his hair.


End file.
